


Finale

by Hyacinthium



Series: Oumasai/Saiou Week Au [3]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Blood and Injury, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Kokichi's Parents Now Grosser, M/M, POV Oma Kokichi, Past Child Abuse, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-05-25 23:29:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14987909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyacinthium/pseuds/Hyacinthium
Summary: Kokichi is happily living his life with his family-friends in a family friendly world where nothing ever goes horribly wrong, and his brain works perfectly fine. But that's just make believe.Kokichi lies. Kokichi never lies. T F?





	Finale

**Author's Note:**

> Day Three, Truth and Lies.

Kokichi spun around and around inside of his empty room. It had been two days since Kaede was found dead in the girl's bathroom and Kokichi's room was gloriously neat and tidy. He had shoved his so kindly provided furnishings items onto one single spot and decided to dance, for hours. It's understandable, considering just how much Kokichi hates her. 

False because?:

Kokichi is in bed on his side. 

His room is a mess and Kokichi is not dancing. Kokichi is damp from a shower. Perfectly identical white outfits are strewn across the floor along with an occasional black cape. A smashed black hat rests somewhere, maybe. 

Kokichi is not happy, nor does he hate anyone, and Kaede was brutally murdered in front of everyone. 

Conclusion; False. 

Lying again. Always with the lying. Set yourself on fire already, you worthless brat. Why won't you do anything right? Just leave already. 

Purple hair gets tugged and twirled around deathly pale fingers. 

The fabric of the sheets. The taste of cool air. Feelings of chill making it to bare feet. The sight of blood and asphyxiation staining itself behind Kokichi's dry eyes. None of it adds up to feeling like part of reality. 

But Kokichi's eyes are leaking and he rubs them again. Lying. 

Truth? is?:

Lying keeps people safe from anything that they can lying about, so long as they don't really believe their own lies. Lying is horrible and poisonous to any and everyone. White lies help people continue living in an otherwise cruel reality. Falsehoods are capable of changing the truth into something different. Deceit can be the most gentle option from someone's point of view, but then end up hurting everyone around them, so it's bad to lie. Dying while believing a kind lie is superior. 

Con? Clu? Sion? 

Kokichi wakes up to an alarm, it's a normal school day, and he wakes up early because some DICE members need help getting started for the day. Tough and gentle love both dictate that someone must provide assistance. Wakes up early because then he will be able to leave early?

It's been so long since they moved here. Kokichi really loves their neighbors. Even if Hoshi and Toujou had to move away. 

No, Kokichi wakes up not at all because he could only drift in and out of sleep. He smiles into the mirror full of facial paint, looks at his faux lively purple hair as if it works, as if his lies work. Purple eyes flutter open and judge him far too independently. 

Is this thusly a lie, wonders a small and listless boy. The boy looks at his reflection and knows that he does not recognize all that is there. 

Toujou recently murdered Hoshi and then was executed like she deserved. 

At breakfast there is silence and no one talks about cheering on a killer just because of her apparent position. Kokichi can't understand. If he did something like that then he'd want DICE to hunt him down and lynch him. 

Hurting people is awful. Murder is illegal. Suicide is a choice and yet, Kokichi gets sick thinking about it, and he doesn't believe the idea that Hoshi allowed it. Not from the start or to the finish. 

How ironic that the government killed a child. 

But Kokichi is a liar. 

Truth is?:

Kokichi watches the Detective talk quietly. Kokichi has never watched the Detective before, but he dislikes him. 

A Detective should not be friends with a cold hearted contract killer. A Detective should be logical if warm, yet not so much as to cling onto someone like Momota. The kind of person that punches mourning strangers, that trivializes countless murders committed for money, who yells and then cycles back to smiling ‘kindness’. It's disgusting to watch everyone become dependant on Saihara when the boy is worthless at his core. Weak. The boy with his grossly dull brown-yellow eyes is weak. 

Kokichi hates him and knows that Saihara would never bother to try. 

Conclusion; False. 

The floor is painful. Kokichi can't even make himself move even though it's just a head wound. He's certain that he doesn't have a concussion. But something in his body is screaming at him to stay still, and lay limp, in his pile of bloody mistakes. 

Why did he even decide to investigate so actively? To improve Saihara’s impression of him? 

That's like baking cookies for someone who abandoned you. 

Like sucking up to people who waste their banks into dry moats full of syringes. Mysterious tablets and packets full of powders while the TV plays. Block it out by turning that weak rusty shower on, because they won't let you leave. Like getting a nice big look at the mold in the bathtub. Like sneaking away at night to scrub and scrub away the filth, in a public bathhouse way past closing time, owned by an old couple that knows and doesn't have any expectations beyond ever present bruises. 

Like-

Statement: ;flqs+DGo

Truth is: I refuse to. 

Conclusion; This isn't real. 

“K- Ouma-kun?!” a voice shouts out and echoes into Kokichi's skull. 

There's the possibility that getting up is safe. Kokichi could spring up and yell that he's lying. By lying about lying, Kokichi can regain power and become safer. And yet, that's still a lie. 

Footsteps plunge down towards him. At first they are hesitant, then racing onwards, and then a second pair gives in. Kokichi doesn't care. 

A lie. 

No one could possibly be about to help him. 

Only nothing is safe here. There is no-where and no-person safe for Ouma Kokichi to be-with. He can try as hard as he wants to open his mouth up along with his heart, but Kokichi can only tell more lies, or horrible truths. Even if he tries to tell mostly good lies that help people, lies are always going to be repulsive things. Kokichi will always be what Kirumi called him. 

But the truth is that Kokichi never really lies to himself. He barely accepts his current reality. 

Kokichi just plays pretend in the sanctity of his own mind. 

He never believes it. 

Hands that shouldn't be familiar grip his collapsed body. He struggles against them and entertains the alternative interpretation that it's not because of an instinctual fear. Soft gold eyes stare down of Kokichi with naked concern that melts right through. Through. 

Kokichi lets Shuichi and Harukawa carry him, giving faux happy instructions for when they finally grab his hidden cache of goodies. It's not ideal for the two to even know about them. But Kokichi doesn't want to bleed more. 

They sit him down on the floor like a sack of potatoes. 

“Clean off the blood before you sterilize!” he tells them. The loudness of the words makes him cringe.

Quietness is weak though. 

He snatches his put together kit from Saihara and pulls out the sewing parts, putting them to the side. A ‘sterile’ cloth gets shoved into Saihara’s frozen hand as an apology. Homemade saline and some random antibiotic stuff in a tube get placed down, along with thin bandages, and some painkillers. They have to be fast. Kokichi has to be fast. 

Cool water gets mixed with a mild soap in a large water bottle. 

Kokichi takes the second water bottle and swallows four pain pills before tossing the bottle into his kit. Shuichi frowns at him but remains silent. 

“Beloved, be a dear and help clean off my face while I put pressure on the cut,” Kokichi says. It's more a command than anything. 

Harukilly stands up and goes to watch for any other murderers planning to show up. 

Saihara switches sides and does as he's told with an almost frightening intensity. Eyes gleaming. It's all so very much a look of concern, a raw emotion pouring out from somewhere within the Ultimate Detective. His hands provide a firm and gentle heaviness as they cleanse Kokichi's face of blood. 

Kokichi fears it to be a lie. 

His entire body is yearning for it to be the truth. Everything else that he doubts could turn out to be a lie, but so long as this show of worry remained real… 

Another slow pass of wet cloth. Shuichi runs the soapy water along-

Shuichi? 

He grumbles, “Take that rag off of me now and stop giving my face an old person bath.”

Saihara says something. Maybe, but Kokichi's head hurts so much. He didn't take any pills yet, that was a lie. 

“Kokichi…”

False because:

Shuichi’s eyes dilate and he looks away. Kokichi closes his own eyes and ears and takes deep breaths. It's a mistake. They are still mere strangers. 

Kokichi never catches Shuichi staring at him due to staring at Shuichi. He doesn't dream about crying into a dull colored Shuichi's chest at night, sick on eating nothing but popsicles, in a house big enough for at least two families. There was no mix of jealousy-resentment-affection-relief. There is no wanting anxiety and no please hold me again.

Conclusion; Lying even more. 

“I'm sorry that I forgot. I still can't remember either,” one of them says as if Harukawa isn't right there. 

Smiling, Kokichi says the truth that he has no words for. He's not sure if Shuichi actually understands it. It could be a lie to say that this ‘Saihara Shuichi’ is the one that these words belong to. They might not even belong to ‘Ouma Kokichi’, either. Yet, they still managed to remain unspoken inside of Kokichi's heart. 

“I forgive you.” I missed you. 

Truth:True;

Shuichi’s eyes meet Kokichi's eyes throughout the third trial. 

The pills that Shuichi shook into his hands barely dull the pain. Kokichi's steady self stitching tugs at skin and itches, but more than that is the feeling of the sight of- honest joy and relief. 

It feels like finding home when they expose the murderer, together.

**Author's Note:**

> So this ended up being very experimental for me, but I'm satisfied with it!


End file.
